Someone I Want
by House-less
Summary: A three chapters fic, filling the blank between Cuddy's unasked question in 'Who's Your Daddy' and her miscarriage in 'Finding Judas'. Huddy.
1. Unsaid

Hi guys! :D

This is (as mentioned in the summary) a three chapters story. I always thought that there's been a blank between Cuddy's injections to get pregnant and the episode where she tells Wilson that she miscarried. So this is an attempt to fill it. I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you Lisa for revising it :*

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.1.

Cuddy entered his office with faked confidence, her shoulders straight and her head proudly raised. She opened the door after a deep inspiration that no one would've noticed and cleared her throat to announce her presence as he didn't seem to notice it. Or so he let appear. House looked up at her, slowly analyzing her silhouette before locking his inquisitor gaze with hers. He could tell by her way of fiddling with her fingers that she was nervous, anxious even.

She tried a frozen smile to gain some confidence but that only looked like a wince, she was sure. She'd thought about it all day, analyzing the question and considering every outcome of _it._ But, in fact, all she feared was his reaction. She was pretty damn sure that she couldn't handle a rejection, just as she was sure that she wanted to ask him to father her baby. Not that she expected anything from him.

 _Find s_ _omeone you like,_ he'd told her when she asked him to help her. It'd put all her plans upside down, changing her perception of the process and had made her reconsider her vision about the whole thing. It'd grown much more difficult than she'd actually guessed it would be, but she couldn't deny that he was right. An anonymous donor was too much of a risk to take, and he'd proved her that.

 _Genes matter._ His words had stuck in her mind all the day, and there she was, trying to ask him that one question that she knew would change everything. But all she could do for the moment was looking at him, unable to say a word. God, she wanted a baby. A baby _like him._ And she couldn't fully convince herself that it was only because he had good genes – almost all of them were good, at least.

"You maybe want to say something?" House said, pulling her out of her thoughts.

He was insistently looking at her, confused and intrigued. He'd guessed what her mouth didn't seem to want to express, though. But he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it either, nor he did want to answer it. He didn't know if he even had the answer. But his curiosity was beyond his hesitation.

"Uh… Yes." She nervously bit her lips, her fingers still twisted in an anxious way. He could see her breathe deeply, her chest moving to the rhythm of her respiration. "Thank you for the injection," Cuddy said afterward, trying to keep her gaze locked to his and make it sound like it was the only thing she came to say.

"Thank you for letting me stare at your ass," House retorted, hiding his confusion behind his habitual ass-hood.

"Ass," she teased him back, relaxing a bit. There were seconds where they shared unspoken words before Cuddy broke eye-contact and started to make her way to where she came from.

"I hope your donor is worth my _devotion_ ," he added before she could reach the glass door.

She turned back at him, and he didn't like the sad look she had in her eyes. "There is no donor."

The frown that began to appear on House's face was now emphasized and a quizzical look replaced the playful one he had earlier.

"You were right, this is ridiculous," Cuddy explained, letting her arms fall along her silhouette. "The anonymous donor wasn't a good deal."

"I also said that you might want to find someone you liked," he reminded her, disconcerted. He was settling correctly in his chair now, fully alert.

"Well, I don't like anyone enough to let him father my baby," she lied. The more she considered it, the more she was convinced that even though she wanted to ask him, that'd be impossible.

"There are a lot of nice guys that …" House tried to argue, but he shut up and just shrugged.

"Maybe I don't want a nice guy," Cuddy countered, turning her head to the left and biting her lower lip. She hoped what she insinuated wasn't that obvious.

"What a mess, I was about to propose myself," he said, feigning genuine disappointment as she looked back at him, smiling at his sarcasm. She was glad he tried to cool down the atmosphere.

"What a pity!" she quipped, entering his game. "Seems like I'm just going to give up," Cuddy added, this time her voice tainted by sadness and deception. She looked at her shoes, not able to face his piercing eyes, she didn't want him to see her moistened eyes. Swallowing hard to recollect herself, she looked up again, meeting his gaze. He didn't move.

Her implicit request had surprised him, though he somewhat expected it. The thing he wasn't able to understand was why him. Among all the great potential donors that she had, why especially _him?_ There was something intriguing about that. He knew that he wasn't the best choice for a relationship, the idea of fathering a child was just unconceivable. Not that he wanted to, anyway.

Cuddy herself didn't know why she wanted such a thing, the sole idea of imagining it seemed to be ridiculously hilarious now that she thought about it again. He wasn't able to handle such a responsibility, and she wasn't sure that if they did have a baby, she'd want to raise him alone while she'd see his father every day. It was way too complicated, at the end. She was glad she didn't ask him, her mind had been too muddled by the harsh want of having a baby, she'd been too impulsive and now, she was just happy she didn't go through it till the end. She could bet he was, too.

"Well, I have lots of work to do … I … Will go," she said as he didn't say a thing, keeping looking at her as she tried not to fall apart in front of him.

"Yeah," she heard him murmur, not really convinced. She offered him a slight smile and made her way outside his office, leaving him to his occupations.

House looked at her silhouette till she disappeared to his view. He glanced at the tiny clock on his desk and judged it was time to go. Actually, it has been far long ago. He got up, knowing he wouldn't find sleep this night, too. His mind wouldn't allow him to, and an awkward feeling in his chest told him it would certainly not.

He sighed, wishing he could just ignore it as he did most of the time, but it was useless. Putting on his leather jacket, he popped the top of the amber bottle and took two Vicodin from it before dry-swallowing them. With that, he headed out of the office, turning the light off on his way to the parking lot.

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TBC…


	2. File 603

_Hello!_

 _First of all, thank you for your encouraging comments. I hope you like the direction I've chosen to take this fic in. Enjoy this chapter! Reviews are welcome, of course :)_

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.2.

The next day, Cuddy was doing her general round to check up every service of the hospital. She'd arrived early, as usual, tired after a sleepless night. She'd been overthinking a major part of the night and she was regretting it now – not that she could've helped it anyway. Luckily, all the departments were running right and no problems were reported by any of their heads.

She was now heading to her office, after checking on the clinic to achieve her visit when a certain limping doctor followed her and accorded his footsteps to hers. She'd almost jumped from surprise but contained herself and only pointed out that he was really late, even for him. House didn't pay attention to her remark and followed her to the office, shrugging as she cast him an annoyed look.

And then, he watched her, trying not to focus on the thought of how beautiful she was, wearing that red lipstick. Cuddy told herself that if she kept ignoring him, he'd probably get bored and go find another distraction. She put onto the desk a pile of paperwork, files, and a mug of steaming coffee before she turned her back to him, looking for something on the bookshelf.

"What's that?" House finally asked, gesturing to the mug and then taking it from its place. He settled down in a chair in front of the desk.

Cuddy quickly looked over her shoulder, sighed and returned to her occupation. "Coffee, House. But wait, I'm not sure, would you wait an hour? I'll run tests to figure it out," she said sarcastically, not looking at him.

"Cute," he commented before taking a sip of the drink. "Coffee ain't any good for someone who's trying to get pregnant, you should know that."

"I _ain't_ ," Cuddy said, now facing him with a quizzical look on her face. "I told you that."

"Because you couldn't find a suitable donor – father, whichever. I did," House retorted, dropping a file onto her desk as he did. He drank a little more of coffee. It was stronger than he liked it.

"I don't want it," she said resolutely, trying to keep her tone casual. Actually, she craved to open that file and see what kind of donors he'd _found for her._ But she restrained herself, she didn't want to be deceived, not again. She'd had enough delusions by now.

"File 603. Beautiful ocean-blue eyes, smooth brown hair, tall, well-built body," he started reading from the file, ignoring her refusal.

"Wow, this is pretty egocentric," Cuddy noted, sitting down in her chair and looking at him skeptically.

"Just reading," he argued, as if the remark was directly addressed to him. "Tiny nose, _parenthesis_ very cute _parenthesis,_ thin lips _comma,_ perfectly aligned teeth _parenthesis_ natural teeth _parenthesis, period_ _._ Character: smart, arrogant _parenthesis_ sometimes _parenthesis,_ talented, musician _parenthesis_ especially piano _parenthesis_ , a bit egocentric _parent –_

"Just like you," Cuddy commented, looking at him knowingly. She didn't mean anything, just commenting the very last _quality_ but House apparently didn't take it that way; he closed the file, got up and started to leave, mumbling a _forget it_ as he reached for the door. Did he just … _freak out?_ Cuddy got up at her turn, getting around her desk and stopping him from leaving the office.

She cast him a quizzical look, frowning dangerously. She was confused, and even if the whole thing that was happening was obvious to her eyes, she didn't allow her mind to follow that direction. Her hands on her hips, she blocked the way with her tiny body, silently asking him to justify his strange behavior.

"Give it to me," she found herself requesting, the palm of her hand opened. "I will take a look at it."

House looked at her hand, then at the file and damned himself for acting that way, for having the whole idea, actually. And for being such a chicken. He had no idea why he'd wanted to help her having the damn baby. Why did she ask _him,_ to begin with? And now, she wanted the file.

"Thank you," Cuddy said, as he handed her the blue folder. He only realized he did when he heard her thanking him calmly. "You sure it's not one of your crazy friends with a very not-so-cute nose and personality trouble whose sperm you're giving me here?" she teased as she went back to her comfortable chair.

"Who knows, you should try to figure out," he retorted, making her smirk. She nodded, putting the file on top of the pile and greeting him with a genuine smile. House looked over his shoulder, through the little window on the office's door and saw Wilson making his way to the elevators. The great escape. "Gotta annoy my BFF," he excused himself, already heading out for good.

He, though, watched her roll her eyes and resume working as he looked back in the office's direction. Cuddy put aside the file she'd opened only a second before and reached for the blue one, the one House gave her. She slowly opened it, starting to consciously read it. House turned back his head, feeling it was the worse idea he'd had in ages.

Cuddy skipped the part House had read for her and continued from where he'd stopped. ' _a bit egocentric (a very tiny bit), funny, cultivated, interesting … etc.'_ She had a half-smile, all the files she'd gone through said almost the same thing – except the _'egocentric'_ part. She kept reading, her conscious refusing to admit what her subconscious was yelling at her.

' _Special characteristics: none but a birthmark on the left hip.  
File 603. For any other information, please contact us at the following number…' _

Cuddy shut the file and tried to have coherent thoughts. It couldn't be a coincidence. Not after the discussion they'd had the day before. Not after his reaction to her innocent comment. She read the file again, stopping at the mention of the birthmark. _That_ was definitively not a coincidence. Her eyes fell on the bank's number and for a moment, she considered it.

With a sigh and an unknown feeling, she closed the folder. She had a call to make. And a decision.

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TBC…


	3. Finding Hope

Hi y'all! :)

Here we go with the last chapter! I want to thank everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed this story, I'm glad you guys like it. This chapter is set in ''Finding Judas'', right after Cuddy told Wilson about her miscarriage.

Enjoy!

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.3.

"Are you an ass?!" House heard his friend shouting as he violently slammed his office's door open.

Wilson stood still in front of his desk, hands on his hips and a frown on his face. He was literally fuming. House put down his red ball, straightening in his chair before clearing his throat. Wilson seemingly waited for an answer. He shrugged.

"Oh stop it, I'll blush," he exaggeratedly said, a hand on his heart and a pout on his face. A furious Wilson was always amusing.

"House."

He winced, his friend wasn't really in the mood, and it rarely happened. He sighed, guessing what made him that angry. "She ran to mommy to tell her everything, cute," he said, now as serious as Wilson was.

He started to make a few steps in the office, gesturing in the air with his hands. "How did you dare to … Just, how did you …" Wilson said, it seemed like he was talking to himself and trying to assimilate what he'd just heard.

"It's not the first time, you know," House said, reminding him he'd always been mean to Cuddy – to everyone, actually. And that never put his friend in that state. He'd reprimanded him, at worse, and let it go, knowing it wouldn't change a thing, at best. But rarely he had got that enraged. There was something else.

"No …" Wilson retorted, shaking his head in disbelief. "You had never gone that far. I didn't expect it, even from you, House," he continued, not stopping his walk. "How could you just …"

"Wait," House said, frowning from confusion. "What did I do?" he asked, fearing he'd be missing something.

"Telling her she'd make a horrible mother? Just after she _miscarried?_ " Wilson answered, obvious. "You are –

"She _what_?" House cut him off, surprised by the news his friend had just brought him.

"Wait … You didn't know she … Oh shit!" Wilson exclaimed, silently prying to stay alive when Cuddy would know that he'd told him _that_.

"Yeah, shit," he repeated, his mind running fast. And he didn't like what he was just realizing.

House got up, picking up his jacket and his bike's keys and quickly limped towards the glass door, leaving his friend in the middle of the office before he could add a word. Cuddy had been pregnant, and she didn't tell him. He felt insulted, after he'd helped her with the procedure, she didn't even tell him it worked – almost worked.

He remembered the day she'd gone up to his office, thanking him and telling him she'd abandoned, the night he'd spent thinking about it, about the unspoken question she'd wanted to ask, his inexplicable want to help her being happy, and the day after that, when he got her _that_ file. And then nothing.

He rode his bike with unanswered questions in his mind, and the craving want to see her, and eventually ask those questions to the concerned woman. He knew he wouldn't, though. He didn't even know why he was rushing in the direction of her house. Nothing was that easy with him, with _them._

He made a few meters in the opposite direction as he realized that he passed Cuddy's villa, he'd been lost in thought and didn't see it. Parking in front of her house, he unclasped his helmet and hung it on the handgrip as he stood up and gazed at the construction in the semi-darkness.

He saw her silhouette in the kitchen, but couldn't define exactly what she was doing. Maybe she was making some tea, he mused. She looked so prosper and yet so lonely, he'd almost lost the guts to go disturb her balance, to enter her apparently so fragile world. He looked down, analyzing the situation and replayingthe events of the last weeks, adding the newest information Wilson had given him. Tightening his grip on his cane, House limped energetically toward her front door before he lost the breath of courage that submerged him.

He let his fist fall a couple of times on the wooden door instead of his cane, surprising himself. He didn't have the power to fight her tonight. He didn't even know what he was doing there, waiting for her to open the door, and further less what he was going to say. He didn't have the time to think about it, as Cuddy appeared in front of him, looking confused. And tired.

She'd been obviously crying, and he hated himself the second he saw her reddish eyes and the broken woman that was standing in front of him. He'd rarely seen her let go on herself, lose control, but he'd pushed her limits too far earlier in the day. She kept looking at him, waiting for an explanation for his visit, tucked in her extra-large sweater and with her messy hair all around her pale face.

"Look, I'm tired, so if you could just –

"It'd worked. You didn't tell me," he cut her off, locking their eyes together.

He himself didn't know if he had the right to know, anyway. She didn't look surprised, she knew Wilson would tell him, intentionally or not. A feeling of relief she wanted not to feel filled her heart. He was there, caring about her. Or at least, she wanted to believe so. She desperately wanted to believe that he wasn't there just because of his insane curiosity.

"What happened today," Cuddy weakly said. "I didn't tell you exactly for that reason."

She was right, he couldn't resent her for wanting to protect herself from him. He wasn't the safest choice, and he'd proved her that not more than three hours ago. It was for that exact reason that he'd retracted, five weeks ago, and wanted to get back the file he'd brought her. House looked at the left for a second, controlling the flow of emotions that threatened to be reflected in his eyes as he read all the distress in hers.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he murmured so low he barely heard himself saying it.

"Yeah, me too…" she whispered back, as low as House's voice had been. She wasn't sure what that ' _me too_ ' meant, but didn't bother herself to understand it, it came naturally. Maybe she was sorry for his loss, too. But she'd never tell him that – she barely admitted it to herself. All the unsaid things in the whole story would better stay unsaid, they silently decided. It was better, for both of them.

Their eyes met again, reflecting all the sincerity of the moment though it was mildly dark. They didn't need a bright light to be able to read in each other's eyes. For a moment, he felt himself leaning over her, Cuddy standing motionless in front of him. But instead of going further, he straightened himself and looked down at Cuddy's bare feet.

"Maybe you want to talk about it," he said, shyly, not looking at her. It was an uncomfortable ground for him, but he found himself doing it anyway. It didn't feel that bad, after all.

"Thank you," he heard Cuddy murmur, pulling aside so she let him come in. He followed her inside, surprised by her acceptance.

She'd dealt with it alone, as she always did when it became too personal, but, as awkward as the situation was, she was happy to share it with someone who understood. Or at least, she hoped so.

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The End.

 **A/N: so here it ends, my friends. I'm considering writing a sequel to figure out what the talk and its outcomes were, but I'm not sure. I tried to make the end match the next episode in the series as much as possible, which is why it's an open end. I hope you enjoyed it :)**


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